


The one you love.

by IAmTheNightman98



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cannon Divergent, F/M, Multi Chapter, Slow Burn, Young Brienne, Young Jaime, no past incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheNightman98/pseuds/IAmTheNightman98
Summary: Jaime’s father takes him to a ball on Tarth in an effort to win favour with Lord Selwyn. Whilst there, he notices the boys tormenting Lord Swelywn's unfortunate daughter and he takes it upon himself to show her that she’s worth more than her appearance.-A look into how different their lives could’ve been if Jaime was the one to comfort Brienne at the ball, not Renly.Rating will increase as fic progresses.-Writing for this fic has now resumed!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, I already have a multi chapter JB fic in progress, but who says I can’t start another.

Jaime hated travelling. He really, really hated travelling. Especially when the destination of said travel was some ghastly hunk of rock in the middle of the narrow sea. He’d been told that Tarth was called the Sapphire Isle by its inhabitants and many others who had been unfortunate to cross paths with it, but as their ship sailed through the night, all he could see was darkness. Show me your sapphires, you wretched island, he scoffed internally.

 

The only thing Jaime hated more than travelling was having to traipse around after his father as he was introduced to one Lord Somebody of Somewhere Boring after the next. At fifteen years old, he intended to be the youngest sworn member of the Kingsguard, not only because he was the best fighter in Westeros, but because it meant that he would inherit none of the duties of the Lord of Casterly Rock or the Warden of the West. No more travelling halfway across the country, then further still by boat, to engage in formalities with the lesser houses. 

 

Tarth was pledged to House Baratheon, which his twin sister Cersei was set to marry into, so his father made it very clear to him that it was important to form a good relationship with Lord Selwyn Tarth from an early stage. Jaime didn’t care much for politics. He cared only for himself, his brother and sister, and his desire to become a knight. Everything else was secondary. One thing that was certainly at the very bottom of the list of things he cared about, right down there with how many rats roamed the sewers of King’s Landing, was who Lord Tarth’s daughter would marry. Come to think of it, he might actually care more about the number of rats. 

 

“Father, would you say that more or less than one million rats live in King’s Landing.” Jaime asked his father as the ship they took passage on docked in the bay of Tarth. His father turned quickly to face him with a look of rage in his eyes. At fifteen, Jaime had not yet come into his full height and stood a little shorter than his father, so he never failed to feel intimidated by his father’s large stature. 

 

“Jaime Lannister you will not embarrass me with such nonsense, do you hear me?” He boomed, but Jaime smirked back at him. Getting under his father’s skin was one of his specialties. He found it one of his most preferred methods of passing the time. 

 

“I’d say more than a million. It really is a gruesome place.” He continued despite his father’s fury. “Maybe even worse than this island you’ve brought me too.” He added with another smirk. 

 

His father twisted his face and raised his arm as though to strike him, but quickly composed himself, presumably due to the fact that they were in public. “I know what you’re doing, you insolent brat. You think if you misbehave that I won’t bring you with me again. Well let me tell you, I don’t bring you on my excursions because I enjoy your company, I bring you because it is expected of me.” Tywin sneered and Jaime felt a sting at his words. 

 

“As a member of the Kingsguard there will be many formalities that are expected of you, so I suggest that you grow up sooner rather than later. When we are escorted to our respective chambers in Evenfall Hall I expect you to get some sleep so that you can be on your best behaviour for the ball tomorrow, do you understand me?” 

 

Jaime’s face burned red with embarrassment as he nodded. Getting scolded and sent to bed by your father was not very knightly. He clenched his fists by his side in anger. The sooner he could become a knight the better, then he would no longer have his father treating him like a child. That night, in his lumpy, uncomfortable bed in one of the guest rooms of Evenfall Hall, he dreamt of his life as a member of the Kingsguard. He would be the most brave, honourable and well respected knight that Westeros had ever known. 

 

-x- 

 

The following evening, as Jaime and his father were escorted to the ballroom, he could already feel the boredom creeping in. The various Lords of the lesser houses of Westeros would have their sons attempt to woo the sole daughter of Lord Tarth, with the hopes of someday inheriting the political seat for themselves, whilst the men would be forming alliances over fine wine and stories of war. The women would likely be engaged in dancing, or gossiping, or whatever it was that women did. That left Jaime as the odd one out. 

 

He’d asked his father on the journey to Tarth if he intended to have him marry the Evenstar’s daughter and his father had scoffed at the suggestion. The House of Tarth was far too insignificant for him to waste the betrothal of his oldest son. Jaime was glad, since he wouldn’t be able to take a wife as a member of the Kingsguard anyways. But it meant that tonight, his presence here was pointless. All he would be able to do was follow his father around, pretending to be interested in whatever he had to say. 

 

As they entered the ballroom, Jaime couldn’t deny the shiver of excitement that ran down his spine as he saw heads turn towards him. Puberty had blessed him with a height that put him above most of the boys his age and his puppy fat had fallen away to leave a chiseled jaw in its wake. His hair fell in soft waves by his shoulders, which was considered desirable by Westerosi standards and he was beginning to fill out the fashionable leather tunics that he wore for occasions such as this. As he walked he felt the weight of his cape which bore the Lannister sigil on his shoulders and he wore it with pride. Despite his dislike for his father, he loved being a Lannister. The respect that the name commanded was second to none. 

 

It seemed as though the evening was going to be as dreary he had expected, until he heard some of the boys snickering just a small distance away from where he stood beside his father. He straightened his back and puffed his chest slightly. Knights did not engage in such childish behaviour. But after a few minutes, the snickering continued and Jaimes curiosity got the better of him. He took his leave from his father and resolved to get to the bottom of the boys’ laughter. 

 

As Jaime approached the group he saw four boys around his age huddled together glancing in the same direction and snickering loudly. “What’s so funny?” Jaime snapped as he approached the group. The boys parted to make their circle a little wider and, hesitantly, Jaime stepped in closer. 

 

“We’re trying to decide who’s turn it is next.” One of the boys laughed. The boy looked slightly older than Jaime, but he wasn’t as tall and he had big crooked teeth with protruded as he spoke. “It’s Wendell’s turn now, but I don’t think anyone will be able to beat him.” The boy said, gesturing towards the middle of the room where they had been glancing before he had approached. 

 

“Turn to do what?” Jaime asked, suspecting the boys were engaged in some sort of trickery. When him and Tyrion were young, they used to tie their guests bootlaces together under the tables so that they would trip when they stood. But that was when they were very young, surely these boys had grown out of this by now?

 

“To dance with Brienne the Beauty.” One of the other boys laughed maliciously, and Jaime turned to face the centre of the room. He hadn’t cared enough to see what the daughter of Lord Tarth looked like until now, but it only took him a moment to realise who they were talking about. In the middle of the dance floor there was very unfortunate looking girl dancing with a boy who looked like he was barely containing his laughter. 

 

He could see even from this distance that her features sat big and prominently on her face. Her limp blonde hair was pulled back into an ornate hair piece and her silk gown looked expensive, but it was not enough to redeem her mulish looks. His father had told him that she was eleven years old, but already she towered over her dancing partner. Despite all this, however, she was smiling. She practically beamed at the boy dancing with her in awe. He’d never seen someone look so genuinely happy. Jaime’s fists clenched in anger as his sides. “Do you cunts really think its funny to tease a little girl?” He snapped, shocking the boys into silence. 

 

“She may be a girl, but she’s certainly not little.” Laughed the short boy with bad teeth and the others laughed along with him. Jaime felt an intense rage burning inside him on behalf of this young, innocent girl. She didn’t deserve this. He thought about his brother Tyrion and the torment he faced at the hands of nasty children teasing him and he recalled the many nights he had spent with Tyrion as he cried. This girl was an only child, she would have nobody to console her tonight. 

 

Jaime was seconds away from grabbing the boy by the throat and punching out his teeth when he remembered his father’s words of warning. If he caused a scene and started a brawl, there would be no way his father would forgive him. If he wanted to prove to his father that he was mature enough to be a knight, he would have to chose his battles. “Well I won’t stand by and watch.” Jaime muttered, leaving the group swiftly. He’d barely taken three steps when he heard the laugher start again.

 

He exited the ballroom quickly and followed the corridor until he exited the building and found himself in a small veranda which looked out over the sea. Night had fallen and he was still yet to see the so called sapphire waters. His father would be beside himself with anger if he knew Jaime had fled the building, but he needed a moment away to calm down. That poor girl. He thought to himself over and over, as he found a small bench to sit on. 

 

Less than ten minutes after he had sat down, the door he had exited through flung open and the girl came barrelling out. She had her hands to her face and he could hear her ugly sobs, but she clearly hadn’t noticed him as she flew into the courtyard without registering his presence. He stood up quickly and held out his arms to catch her as she ran past and she landed against his chest with a thud.

 

“Unhand me at once.” She yelled through her tears and Jaime stepped back slightly, but kept his hands firmly on her shoulder so that she would not flee. She was incredibly tall for such a young girl, but she was still slightly shorter than Jaime, so he had to tilt his head to look at her. 

 

“So I take it you realised then?” He asked, causing more tears to flood from her eyes. She wriggled and her biceps flexed under his grip. The girl was built like an ox. “Forgive my language, my Lady, but those boys are rotten little cunts.” He said, smirking as her eyes flew open in shock. She blushed slightly, presumably at his vulgar language, but then her eyes narrowed sceptically. 

 

“Were you not a part of the joke?” She muttered, eyeballing him with suspicion. Fuck those boys. She would likely be wary of any kindness shown to her for the rest of her life. 

 

“Gods no.” Jaime said firmly, then released his grip on her shoulders as she seemed less likely to run away sobbing than she had done a moment ago. As she stared at him, he noticed how big and round her eyes were. And how blue too. He suspected that Tarth was not called the Sapphire Island for the blue of its waters, but for the blue of her eyes. After a moment he let out a long sigh and sat back onto his bench, gesturing for her to sit with him. She sat down with none of the grace of the girls he had grown up with and hunched her shoulders awkwardly. Gods, she really didn’t help herself. 

 

“I am the ugliest girl alive.” She said blankly, staring at the sea in the distance. He could tell that she didn’t seek his pity, as she spoke so very matter of factly. He wanted to shove his sword down the throat of every boy at that dance. 

 

“So what if you are?” He shrugged. She turned and glared at him as though she would tear his head from his shoulders and he held up his hands in mock defence. “Forgive me, Lady Brienne, but all I meant is that perhaps being some cunty Lords perfumed housewife is not what you are destined to be.” As he spoke he took her awkwardness in once more and he couldn’t imagine her having any of the skills such as needle point or singing that were usually bestowed upon a highborn lady. 

 

“What else is there?” She gauped at him, her large mouth hanging open in surprise. 

 

“You could be a knight?” He smirked. “You’ve got the stature for it.” 

 

She furrowed her forehead together and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “Don’t mock me.” She hissed through gritted teeth. 

 

“I’m not mocking you.” Jaime grinned back. “I think you’d make an excellent warrior. You’d certainly knock those little shits into the dirt, that’s for sure.” Her expression softened slightly but her forehead remained crinkled and her eyes were narrow slits of scepticism. “Why don’t you take me to Evenfall’s training yard and I can give you your first lesson?”

 

A soft blush creeped over her cheeks and her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s far too late at night for that, Lord-” She told him, but hesitated when she got to his name.

 

“Lannister. Jaime Lannister.” He told her, not knowing it was possible for her eyes to widen any further.

 

“Lannister?” She stammered. “Father will be so angry at me for making a fool out of myself in front of a Lannister.” She said with worry, dropping her gaze to the floor. Jaime reached out to cover his hand with hers so that she would look at him.

 

“The only fools are the boys inside.” He smiled softly and she smiled back. “So it’s a definite no to the training yard?” He added with a smirk. 

 

“I’m afraid so.” She nodded gently. He was about to reply when he heard a voice from the doorway.

 

“Lady Brienne, are you out here?” The voice called. Jaime looked up to see none other than Renly Baratheon waking into the courtyard. “There you are.” He said, sounding relieved as he crossed the distance to where they sat. Jaime quickly removed his hand from hers as Renly approached. When he reached them he took one look at Brienne’s damp puffy eyes and turned pointedly to Jaime. “Was this your doing?” He snapped. 

 

Jaime was about to defend himself when Brienne spoke up “No, my Lord. He has been very kind to me.” She said softly and it warmed his heart to know she felt that way. Renly narrowed his eyes at Jaime but then softened his face into a smile and turned back to Brienne.

 

“My Lady, I have come to ask you to dance.” Renly said, bowing and holding out his hand to her. Jaime was furious that Renly had assumed that he had made Brienne cry, but he also knew that Renly did not have a malicious bone in his body and he was only trying to look out for her. He’d known Renly since they were children and in all that time he’d never known him to behave badly. Plus, his… inclinations were one of the worst kept secrets in court, so he trusted Brienne would be safe with him. 

 

Brienne on the other hand did not know Renly and he saw her shoulders tense in aprehension. She looked at Jaime nervously and didn’t respond to his offer to dance right away. 

 

“Its okay, my Lady. Renly won’t harm you.” Jaime said reassuringly and gestured towards Renly’s outstretched hand for her to take it. Hesitantly, she took Renly’s hand and let him guide her through the courtyard and back towards the building, but she glanced at Jaime over her shoulder the entire time, making him smirk widely.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the training yard?” He called after her, not missing the wide grin on her face as the door closed. 


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as her father had permitted her to leave the disastrous ball, she quickly thanked Lord Renly for his kindness and then ran straight to her chambers. She slammed the door behind her and started to fumble with the laces of her dress to untie them, but accidentally tore the fabric in the process. Once she saw the first tear in the fabric, it was as though something had snapped inside her. She pulled the wretched dress from her body and began to claw at the fabric, gradually ripping it into hundreds of little pieces. It took all of her strength to get through the entire dress, but she was beyond satisfied once she’d finished.

 

She sat in a heap on the floor beside her bed, staring at the fabric that surrounded her for a very long time, but she could not cry. Renly had told her that those nasty little shits did not deserve her tears, so she was determined not to break. She could barely express her gratitude when Lord Renly had asked her to dance, without all the malicious intention of the boys before him, but as she had danced with him she felt a small amount of guilt for leaving Jaime Lannister outside alone. 

 

She had heard foul rumours of how the Lannisters were pompous, arrogant and rude, but she didn’t see Jaime to be that way at all. From the sound of him, Brienne would’ve expected him to be the one that started the game, but he showed her nothing but kindness. It was an odd sort of kindness however, Brienne thought. Courtesy would dictate that a young lord in his situation attempting to console her should compliment her dress or ask her to dance, as Renly did, but Jaime had done neither. If anything, Jaime had conceded to the fact that Brienne was the ugliest girl alive.

 

Somehow, however, Jaime made it sound like a good thing. Or maybe not a good thing, just that it didn’t matter. She respected him enormously for that. Brienne was under no illusion that she would be tall, large and awkward for the rest of her life, but after her very brief conversation with Jaime, the thought didn’t fill her with so much anguish. He told her she could be a knight. She knew that as a Lady, that should’ve offended her. But she was no Lady, she was Brienne of Tarth. She’d always felt the urge to fight. To knock to the dirt every man who had ever belittled her. So, why shouldn’t she get the chance to learn just for the fact that she was a woman?

 

With a new found courage, she picked herself up off the ground and moved to stand in front of her dusty old mirror. Usually, she hated the mirror and had even begged her septa to let her cover them up, but tonight she wanted to see herself. As she stood in her underclothes from beneath her gown, she straightened her shoulder and puffed out her chest. Yes, being a knight would suit her well. 

 

That night, she dreamed of far away lands where she would spar with other knights and make a fool out of them. She would be stronger, better and faster. But she would also be more honourable. She would never stand for injustice or hatred and she would always do the right thing. If any man wished to marry her, he would have to beat her in a fight first. Briefly, she wondered if Jaime Lannister could beat her in a fight, but she quickly pushed the thought away. Boys like him didn’t end up married to girls like her. 

 

-x- 

 

Brienne woke up the following morning to the the sound of Septa Roelle screeching. “What have you done to your gown young lady?” She yelled, picking up clumps of the shredded fabric from the ground. Brienne tried to resist a small, self satisfied smirk. “Do you know how valuable this gown was?” Roelle yelled again. 

 

Brienne sat up in bed, straightened her shoulders and remained calm. “I had no intention of wearing that gown ever again. It had no value to me.” She said curtly. 

 

Roelle let out a long, frustrated sigh. “We will see what your father has to say about this.” She snapped, but Brienne would not be baited into an argument over a silly dress. Besides, she imagined that her father would care very little as he had always been an understanding man. “Get dressed, I will see you at breakfast.” Roelle told her, pulling open the drapes then leaving her room with a huff. 

 

Once Roelle had left, Brienne allowed herself a small smile. She had handled that rather maturely, for after last night, she was no longer a little girl. Her eyes had been opened to the cruelty of the world once and for all. There would be no turning back now. 

 

If her father had been angry about the gown, he had not indicated so over breakfast, which pleased Brienne. She had also opted to wear breaches and a short tunic today instead of a dress, which he didn’t comment on either. Her septa however had practically been beside herself with frustration when she’s seen her clothing choice. “First she tears up her gown and now she wishes to dine dressed in this way? You will need to reign her in before it’s too late, Lord Selwyn.” She had told him, glaring disapprovingly at Brienne. Her father had simply ignored her advice, smiled warmly at Brienne and asked her if she had plans for the day. 

 

She had been about to tell him that she had to attend an afternoon tea in the gardens with the daughters of the visiting Lords, but her mind flicked back to what Jaime Lannister had asked her the night before. After he had told her that she would make a better knight than a housewife, he had offered to take her to the training yard. Then again as she was leaving with Lord Renly, he had made the same offer. She suspected, as she had come to suspect of most things, that this was a set up for a cruel joke. It was likely that she would arrive in the training yard and he would taunt her for believing him, or that he just wouldn’t be there at all. But if that were the case, she could just train alone.

 

“I’m going to the training yard. I wish to learn how to wield a sword.” She said proudly. Roelle had looked as though she was about to yell, but her father raised his hand gently to stop her. 

 

“Be careful.” He said softly and Brienne smiled brightly back at him. 

 

On her way down to the training yard, there was an odd sense of excitement in her step. She had assured herself of the fact that it was very unlikely that Jaime Lannister was serious in his offer to train her, but nevertheless she was still very excited to hold a sword in her hand, even if it was just a sparring sword. When she approached the yard however, she saw the sunlight glinting off of unmistakable, golden locks. 

 

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.” He smirked devilishly at her, standing as she approached. She felt her hands go clammy in an instant as she had not noticed how handsome he was the night before. She shuffled awkwardly, looking at the floor and toeing a rock by her feet. “Come on, don’t make me wait any longer.” He grinned, picking up the two sparring swords by his feet and tossing one to her. 

 

She fumbled with the sword he’d thrown to her and dropped it to the floor, causing him to laugh loudly. She screwed up her face and glared at him in anger, but he didn’t stop laughing. “You don’t think that just because I don’t agree with you being bullied, that I’m going to go easy on you, do you?” He grinned and her anger lessened slightly, but not entirely. 

 

“I was not getting bullied.” She snapped, feeling tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. 

 

He quirked his eyebrow in amusal. “Yes you were.” He said matter of factly. “Now pick up that sword and show me what you’ve got.” He said, gesturing to the sword she dropped with his own. Brienne felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She genuinely couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or not. Usually, it was very clear when people mocked her, but Jaime was different. He was unlike anyone she had ever met.

 

With a little uncertainty, she picked up the sword from the ground and held the grip with both hands, then she stood up with her shoulders back and her arms extended out straight in front of her. Jaime laughed, causing another wave of embarrassment to cross over her. “Like this.” He said softly and nudged her shoulder with the end of his sword, causing her to stand at an angle. Next, he nudged the crook of each of her elbows so that her arms bent slightly and her sword was pulled closer to her body. Finally, he stepped closer to her and kicked the inside of her left foot gently so that she stood with her legs apart and her knees bent. She tried not to be flustered at his closeness.

 

“Does that feel better?” He asked and she nodded mealky. She rolled her shoulders slightly and adjusted her grip on the sword to one that felt more comfortable and he grinned widely at her. She took a moment to prepare herself for what he would say next, but without warning he lunged his sword towards her, knocking hers out of her hand. 

 

“That’s not fair.” She huffed and glared at him. How was she supposed to know that they were starting when hadn't told her?

 

He simply laughed in response. “Life’s not fair, wench.” He smirked, causing her to scowly again. 

 

“My name is Brienne.” She snapped, resisting the urge to stamp her feet into the dirt like a child.

 

“Pick up the sword, Lady Brienne.” He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She picked up the sword, but not because he had told her to, it was because she wanted to. As she stood, she adjusted her stance and braced herself, he would not take her by surprise again. This time when he lunged, she was ready to block him and their swords met with a loud clang. He was much stronger than her however, and better practiced, so after a moment he managed to push her sword from her hand once more. 

 

They continued in that same pattern for a long while. They would clash swords for a moment until Jaime managed to knock her sword from her hand, then she would dust herself off, pick up the sword and brace herself ready to try again. He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to go easy on her. After a little while longer however, Brienne felt the muscles in her arm start to ache and she found that Jaime could beat her without having to try at all. 

 

“Come on wench, don’t give up just yet.” He taunted, after he’d caused her to drop her sword yet again. 

 

“I’m not giving up.” She snapped. Her arms were burning and she could tell they would hurt for days to come, but she would not give up. If people were going to call her stubborn and mulish, she may as well live up to their expectations. 

 

Jaime shot her that devilish smirk once more. “Then put up a bit of a fight. Otherwise you’ll have no chance of beating those bullies.” He said cruelly. 

 

Brienne hated being told that she was being bullied. It didn’t count as bullying if she didn’t care what they said about her. She shot him a fiery glare, but was too exhausted to put more strength into their fight. “I am not bullied.” She sneered, as his sword clashed with hers.

 

“Of course you are. I bet childhood has been awful. Do they push you down and call you names?” He laughed and she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Why was Jaime being so nasty all of a sudden? She suddenly felt no desire to spar with him at all, as she felt as though she may cry.

 

“What is it that they call you? Brienne the Beauty?” He taunted. As soon as he spoke she felt an intense rage burning within her. Embodied in Jaime she saw every person who’d ever been cruel to her. Every person that had made her cry and feel miserable. 

 

Something inside of her snapped, as it had done she had torn her dress. Suddenly, filled with a strength that she hadn’t felt before, she thrust her sword at Jaime which caused him to lose his grip and leave himself unguarded. Then, she she let out an almost guttural roar as she raised her foot and landed a hard kick into the centre of his chest. The kick sent him tumbling backwards and he hit the floor with a thud.

 

As soon as he hit the ground, a wave of panic washed over Brienne. “I’m so sorry, My Lord.” She stammered, dropping her sword and raising her hands to cover her face, but then, surprisingly, Jaime began to laugh. He laughed long and hard, leaving Brienne to stand awkwardly watching him.

 

“I knew you had it in you, wench.” He said, then winked at her as he rose to his feet.

 

“Wait, were you trying to provoke me?” She asked in shock causing him to laugh again, which she took as a yes. She was slightly embarrassed that she’d let herself be provoked to such an outburst, but at least that meant he wasn’t as cruel as she’d thought. 

 

“I was worried you wouldn’t take the bait for a moment.” He smirked and she felt a further embarrassment over the fact that she’d almost cried in front of him for the second time in two days. 

 

He picked up both their training swords from the ground and she looked at him in confusion. “Are we finished?” She asked, trying her best not to sound disappointed. 

 

“We’ve been out here for over an hour, I’m exhausted.” He laughed and she smiled softly too. She was glad that he was as worn out as her. She dusted herself down awkwardly as he put back the swords. 

 

“Will I see you again before you leave?” She asked nervously.

 

He turned to her and raised his eyebrow in amusal, which seemed to be a habit of his. “I have to stay on this boring island for a week and you’re my only friend here. Of course you will see me again.” He smirked and Brienne felt a dark blush rise to her cheeks. 

 

-x- 

 

After their sparring session, Jaime had accompanied Brienne to the afternoon meal held in Evenfall Hall and insisted that they be allowed to sit together. Her father was happy to oblige, as it meant that Lord Tywin would have to sit at their table too and the Lannisters were close allies with House Baratheon, but Lord Tywin himself had been a little more sceptical.

 

“What are you doing, boy?” She’d heard Lord Tywin mutter under his breath to his son, but Jaime had simply slipped into his seat next to her and ignored him. Brienne was used to people looking at her, especially when they had visitors that had never seen her before. She was very tall, large and ugly for a girl of only eleven. To most, she was a spectacle to be mocked. But today, people stared at her due to her dining companion. 

 

Jaime truly was one of the most handsome boys that she’d ever seen. His golden hair shook in perfect waves as he moved and the light hit his cheekbones brilliantly. Every now and then throughout the meal he would catch her looking at him and either wink or smirk at her, causing a permanent, deep red blush on her cheeks. She was too nervous to talk much, as they sat beside their fathers, but she enjoyed his company all the same. Once the meal was concluded, she had expected him to file out with all the rest of the guest company, but he tugged at her sleeve gently and pulled her aside. 

 

“I want you to show me the sea.” He said, so close that only she could hear him. 

 

She shuffled on her feet uncomfortably. “This is an island, my Lord, the sea is all around us. I don’t need to show you.” 

 

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “I mean, I want you to take me to the shore. Or do you have other plans?” He grinned. Brienne considered for a moment, it was a little ways to get to the shore itself, but they could probably make it there and back before dark. She thought that he may have been trying to trick her in some way, but nothing in his tone indicated that that was the case. Besides, spending the rest of the day with Jaime was a much better option that whatever her septa had planned for her.

 

“Okay.” She said softly with a smile and lead him through the halls of Evenfall towards the great outdoors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. The first few chapters will be short as I ease into the story and get a sense of whether anyone is actually reading, but I will be posting more soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Brienne of Tarth was boring. There was no two ways about it. She was reserved, barely spoke unless spoken to first and, when she did speak, it was apparent that she was cripplingly shy. All of that was a recipe for a social disaster. And yet, Jaime found himself inexplicably drawn to her. 

 

She was stubborn and headstrong and took to sword fighting like a moth to a flame. The small smirk on her face as she brushed herself off and picked up her sword from the ground every time he knocked it from her grip was intriguing and he could tell from her brilliant eyes that her emotions ran deep, no matter how much she tried to suppress them. She was unlike any girl he’d ever met and that, he supposed, was simply because there was no other girl like her. 

 

As she lead him gradually down the winding rock face to the shore, he hoped that she would be more comfortable when in an environment that felt more natural to her. She’d barely said a word over lunch and the discomfort radiated from her like a continuous scream. He couldn’t say why he’d decided that he would spend the rest his week on Tarth forcing her companionship, but it was certainly going to be a lot more exciting than whatever his father had planned for him. 

 

Jaime had barely looked out at the sea in front of them throughout their descent as he had to focus very hard on not losing his footing. Despite the fact that she was awkward and gangly, her feet navigated the rocks beneath her with a grace and expertise that only came from many years of practice. Every so often, she would glance behind her, presumably to make sure he was still following. He wondered if she’d ever had company in the hidden bay she lead him to, or if he was the first.

 

Perhaps, this was the place she came to when she needed to escape the real world? Suddenly, he felt like an intruder in her place of solace and wondered if he should suggest they turn back, but he replaced the thought with a more amusing image of her, once he had left Tarth, coming down here with a sparring sword and training against fresh air. 

 

When the ground eventually levelled out beneath their feet and the rocks turned to sand, he allowed himself to take in the sea for the first time and, gods, it was magnificent. The afternoon sun was high in the sky and it shone across the bay, giving the water the appearance of a pool of glistening gem stones. It was breathtaking. He looked over at Brienne, who was watching him anxiously, waiting for his reaction. “Wow.” He breathed out and a big toothy grin broke out across her face. She was blushing as though he’d complimented her personally. 

 

“Come on then.” He grinned, sprinting off across the sand and she followed him. When he reached the waters edge he toed off his boots and moved to shrug his shirt over his head. 

 

“What are you doing?” She stammered, staring at him wide eyed in shock. 

 

He grinned back at her as he removed his shirt, followed by his breaches, leaving himself in his smallclothes. “Getting in the water.” He shrugged simply. When his toe touched the water, it was much colder than he expected it to be and he flinched away, causing her to let out an ugly snort of laughter. Determined to shut her up, Jaime ran into the water without further hesitation, clenching all of his muscles as the water surrounded him. It was the height of summer and the sun shone without a cloud in the sky, so he acclimatised fairly quickly. 

 

Once he had gotten used to the temperature, he floated idly on his back, staring at her where she stood awkwardly on the shore. “Aren’t you coming in?” He smirked. She shifted awkwardly on her feet and glanced down at her clothing. “I promise not to look.” He smiled softly, turning away from her to face the open water. It was even more beautiful up close. After a moment, he heard the water ripple and turned back to face her. 

 

She had removed her shoes, breeches and tunic, which of course she had folded neatly, but had left her undershirt on to maintain an element of modesty. She took far less time to adjust to the waters temperature than he did and began swimming in no time. “So how often do you come down here?” He asked, treading water beside her. 

 

“Regularly. It’s very pleasant.” She said softly, seemingly still ill at ease in his presence. 

 

“Do you come alone?” He asked, hoping to get her to open up a little.

 

_ Come on, Lady Brienne, prove to me that you’re worth the intrigue.  _

 

She didn’t reply, simply nodded sheepishly, then began swimming away from him, further out into the bay. “What do you do out here?” He called after her, attempting to catch up. She was an astoundingly fast swimmer. 

 

“I swim.” She said plainly back. Gods, trying to get a conversation from her was like trying to squeeze water from a stone. Eventually, the water grew deep beneath them and they reached the edge of the bay, where they would risk being swept up in the current, so she stopped swimming to tread water in place. 

 

“Come on, Blue Eyes, talk to me?” He teased, causing her to blush. “What’s your favourite colour?” He asked and she narrowed her eyes in skepticism. 

 

“Blue.” She said hesitantly, and Jaime laughed loudly. She was far too predictable. 

 

“What’s your favourite-“ 

 

“Hey, it’s my turn.” She cut him off. He smirked at her whilst she thought of a question. “Do you have siblings?” She asked after a minute.

 

“It took you that long to think of that question?” He laughed before answering. ‘But yes, I have a twin sister and a younger brother. Do you have any?” He asked back.

 

A look of hurt flickered across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “No.” She said softly, and Jaime though it best not to push the subject any further.

 

“What’s your favourite sound?” He asked, attempting to change the subject as he drifted up to float on his back. 

 

He thought she would have to think for a moment but she answered straight away. “The sound of waterfalls.” She said with a small smile. She leaned back to float on her back too and for a moment neither spoke, opting to enjoy the sun blazing down on them instead. 

 

After a moment, a strange impulse overtook him and before he could stop himself, he reached out to hold her hand. She tensed, but did not pull away and he didn’t look over to her. “So that we don’t drift apart.” He said simply. If she had a problem with it, she didn’t say so. 

 

“What age did you learn to ride a horse?” She asked after a while, dispelling any tension or awkwardness that there may have been between them.

 

They continued like that for a long while, floating beside one another and asking questions. It was very monotonous as far as conversations went, and Jaime imagined with any regular person it would be bizarre, but with her, he didn’t mind. She was talking to him, at least. She kept her answers very short and to the point, but surprised him every so often with unexpected questions, like ‘what’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done’ or ‘what’s the last lie you told’. 

 

Eventually, the warmth of the sun began to grow uncomfortable on his face and as he glanced over at Brienne he noticed the freckles on her face had darkened significantly. He slipped his hand from hers and moved himself into an upright position. “I’ll race you back to the shore.” He said, then set off swimming before she had the chance to reply. 

 

He had expected her to protest that it wasn’t fair that he’d had a head start, like most eleven year old girls would, but instead she began swimming with determination. In less than a minute she had overtaken him and she beat him to the shore by an embarrassing margin. Once she reached the place where she could stand, she began to wade through the water onto the sand, but he caught up to her before she had the chance. 

 

“Brienne.” He called urgently so that she would turn to face him and as she turned he swung his arms to send a shower of water over her. A look of rage flashed over her face and he worried that he had made a mistake, but then she splashed him back twice as hard. He broke out into a fit of laughter as he splashed her again, soaking her face with water.

 

“Jaime!” She screeched as she fired water back at him, but he could hear her laughing too. 

 

They laughed and splashed one another with water until neither could stand it any longer, then they stumbled giddy onto the shore to lay in the sand as they caught their breath. It was the most fun Jaime had had in years. 

 

“We should go back.” Brienne said softly and Jaime agreed, noticing that the sun was getting low in the sky and they would struggle to navigate the rock face in the darkness. 

 

“Five more minutes.” He said quietly, resisting the urge to hold her hand. 

 

-x-

 

The rest of the week passed far too quickly for Jaime’s liking. Every morning from just after sunrise, they would train in the yard and share a breakfast of bread stolen from the kitchens and berries. He was yet to see any marked improvements in her performance, since they had only been training for a week, but her determination was admirable. She kept losing, but still she would stand, dust herself off, and try again. 

 

On the fourth morning when she came down to the training yard, he saw that she had cut her shoulder length hair into a style that was shorter than his own. It did nothing to help her appearance, if anything, it made her look more manish, but somehow it suited her. In their previous training sessions, she would spend most of her time huffing upwards to blow her limp hair from her face and Jaime could tell instantly how much her short hair allowed her to focus more on the fight. He wished he could’ve seen the look on her septa’s face when she’d seen her. 

 

During their training, conversation was kept to a minimum as the heat and physical exertion made it difficult to talk. Similarly, at the daily lunch banquet held in Evenhall, whilst they sat beside their fathers, she spoke very little. It was only in the afternoons, when they would venture down to the bay, that she would finally relax and start to speak freely. They talked about everything Jaime could think of, for hours on end, as they climbed the rocks and swam in the sea. 

 

His favourite thing about those times was how she would laugh. Even through to the end of the week, when they’d spent nearly every waking moment together, he still got the impression that she was intimidated by him. She was very reserved in the way she spoke, and apologise profusely when she thought she had asked an overly intrusive question, even though he didn’t care. But when she laughed, all that seemed to change. Her eyes would light up and she would flash all of her teeth in a wide, open mouthed smile. 

 

When he made her laugh, the formalities and fear fell away. They were just two people enjoying each other’s company. She was whitty too, when she tried. Jaime thought he may have laughed more during the past week than he had in his whole life. As they played in the water like children, he longed for the childhood he’d never had at Casterly Rock. 

 

His enthusiasm and energy pushed her to do things she wouldn’t usually do, like jump from high waterfalls, screaming so loudly that all of Westeros could hear them. Whereas her sense kept them grounded, making sure they were safe and in Evenfall Hall before nightfall. Together, they achieved a perfect balance.

 

His last full day on Tarth had bitter sweet. He enjoyed every moment of his time there, but it stung knowing that once he left, it could be years before he ever saw her again. He tried not to let his sour mood ruin the day, but he could tell that she was upset about the prospect of him leaving too.

 

They arrived back in Evenfall Hall a little later than usual and it was almost completely dark as they snuck in through a side entrance. Their goodnights were usually short and sweet, but he would be leaving at dawn, so instead of hurrying back to her chambers as she usually did, Brienne stood awkwardly, waiting for him to speak. 

 

“Well, this week has been fun.” He said with a soft smile. 

 

“Yes, it has.” She agreed with a nod, but didn’t meet his eye.

 

Jaime cursed himself for being so unable to decide on something better to say. He was usually so charming and good with words, why was this so difficult? “I’ll miss the bay when I leave. There’s nothing like it in Casterly Rock.” 

 

_ I will miss you, when I leave. There’s nobody like you in Casterly Rock. _

 

She smiled and nodded her head again. “Tarth will be very quiet without you, My Lord.” She said softly.

 

_ Jaime, my name is Jaime.  _

 

“Can I escort you back to your chambers?” He asked, hoping to squeeze another few minutes out of the night before he had to leave.

 

She hesitated, glancing around nervously, but nodded her head anyways. “You may.” She said quietly. He held his arm out for her to take, which she did, but only barely. Her fingertips ghosted over the material of his shirt, as though she was afraid to actually touch him. She had to lead the way to her chambers, as he didn’t know his way around the Hall, but they walked in silence. Partly because it was late and they didn’t want to be caught being awake at this time, but also because there seemed to be nothing adequate to say. 

 

As they walked, he thought about how odd it seemed that his feelings towards Brienne had changed so drastically in just one week. When he’d arrived, he’d had no interest in knowing anything about her. It was only when he saw her being bullied that he noticed her. Even once they’d started spending time together, he found her to be boring and awkward, but the lesser of two evils when it came to his options for how to spend his time. But somehow, he’d gone from that to actively enjoying her company. 

 

Not just that, but he was excited by the prospect of learning more about her. She was like a puzzle. He had to work out the right questions to ask to get her to talk freely. He had to work out the best ways to make her loosen up and enjoy herself without being too outlandish. He was utterly enthralled by her. He had no interest in showing off his family wealth or status, he just wanted to learn about her. 

 

And for some reason, he wanted to tell her things about himself too. Things that he’d never told anyone else. He told her about how difficult it had been for him when his mother died and how much it hurt him that Cersei was cruel to Tyrion. He would ordinarily be embarrassed about revealing his emotions, especially to someone he barely knew, but there was just something about her that made his innermost thoughts come tumbling out. 

 

“Lord Jaime.” She said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “We’re here.” She told him, gesturing to the door to her chamber and pulling her hand away from him, but he caught her hand in his. 

 

“Goodbye, Brienne.” He said quietly, then pulled her into a gentle hug. He wrapped his arms around her firmly and then, tentatively, she raised her arms to do the same. 

 

“Goodbye, Jaime.” She whispered, finally dropping the word ‘Lord’. 

 

He pulled back from the hug to look at her, but didn’t move arms from around her. In the moment when she looked up at him with her big, sad eyes, he realised something. 

 

He might be in love with her.

 

It would explain a lot, after all. Such as why he felt such a pull towards her, or why his heart broke at the thought of leaving. If she wouldn’t have been a few years younger than him, he probably would’ve kissed her. Instead, he dropped a light peck on her forehead. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” He said nervously and she nodded her head. “Will your father try to find you a new husband?”

 

“Most likely.” She nodded softly.

 

“And will you accept any of them?” 

 

She shook her head and smirked. “Not unless they can beat me in a fight.” She grinned. 

 

“Well in that case, I want you to promise me that you will keep training. Keep winning.” He said firmly.

 

She laughed slightly and rolled her eyes. “Would you have me be an unmarried woman for the rest of my life?” 

 

“No. I would have you marry me.”

 

Her eyes opened in shock and she stepped back slightly. “My lord, you can’t mean-” She stammered. 

 

“I do.” He said insistently. “If when we meet again, you are of age and unmarried, and I am not a member of the Kingsguard, I will ask for you hand.” He said nervously. Gods, what in seven hells was he doing? All he’d ever wanted was to be in the Kingsguard. And his father would be livid. But none of that seemed to matter. 

 

“Are you mocking me?” She asked, her eyes showing an unmistakable look of hurt. 

 

“No. No, I swear it.” He said quickly, shaking his head and taking her hands in his. She swallowed nervously, but didn’t respond. “Promise me you’ll consider it.” He pleaded. 

 

She nodded her head a few times then smiled, so he pulled her back in for another hug, pressing a kiss into her hair as he did. “I will wait for you, if you will wait for me.” He whispered against her head. 

 

“We could write to each other?” She suggested hopefully, once their embrace had ended. 

 

“I’d like that.” He smiled, dreading the moment he would have to leave. She looked at her bedroom door uncomfortably so he leaned across to open it for her. 

 

“I guess this is it then.” She said sadly, but he simply beamed back at her. 

 

“No, My Lady, this is not it. You and I will meet again one day, I know it. We may have to wait a while, but the day will come. Of that I am certain.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I know this update is only short but I have a lot of up coming deadlines at university so I struggle to find the time!
> 
> I have considered ending this story here, but if anyone would like to see more then please let me know and I will write the rest! (Gradually!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, this fic is now back! This is just a short update to set up this section of their story but essentially there are things you need to know. 
> 
> Due to the fact that their ages have been changed, the timeline has also shifted and so:  
> 1- Jamie was Knighted at 16 (Brienne was 12)  
> 2- Appointed to the King's Guard at 18, close to 19 (Brienne was 15)  
> 3- And in the present day is 20, and Brienne is almost 17. 
> 
> Their age difference is three and a half years, which is why depending on the time of year they are either four or three years apart in age. I hope this makes sense! I wont be focusing on their ages past this chapter, I just hope it makes sense. 
> 
> Please let me know if anything doesn't make sense/ line up properly.

Brienne followed her father, attempting to walk with purpose through the halls of Evenfall just as he had taught her. 

 

_ “You are not a child, my sweet. You are the Lady of Tarth and you must act like it.” _

 

He had decided that at sixteen years of age, it was about time she learnt the ways of ruling and the duties to her people that she must fulfil, but all she wanted to do was train with the sword. He supported her training, he even taught her himself when he could spare the time, but he always made sure to remind her that duty came before all else. 

 

She listened as he drawled on about council meetings, listing the ins and outs of who sat where, who should be consulted and in what order. She nodded her head like a good daughter should, brushing her thumb over the newly formed calluses on her hand. The calluses of a fighter, she though with a smile. Her training was getting better by the day and she had no doubt that she could be the strongest fighter in Tarth. 

 

She’d beaten each one of the men who had belittled her over the years, that was for damn sure. 

 

At least she could relax knowing that after three failed betrothals, he had given up on the idea of finding her a husband. 

 

_ Four failed betrothals. _ Her heart whispered.

 

She coughed to clear her throat, pushing the memory of Jaime out of her mind. Now was not the time for sentiment.

 

“Are you listening to me?” Her father said accusingly, then sighed in disappointment as she looked up startled. “My child, you will never learn if you don’t listen.” He said softly. 

 

She nodded her head in shame. “I apologise. I will do better.” She muttered. 

 

He gestured towards two chairs which occupied the space at the head of the room in the great hall where they stood. Wordlessly, she followed him, then sat down beside him. He sighed as they gazed out over the empty room. 

 

“Brienne, Tarth is not much, but it’s ours. I want nothing more than for you to be able to enjoy what remains of your youth, but this is how it must be.” He said solemnly. 

 

“I understand.” She told him, feeling guilty that she was making this so difficult for him. He’d lost three of his children and his wife. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that she was all he had left. 

 

She vowed to do better. 

 

“Perhaps you would be more engaged if you accompanied me on my next diplomatic trip?” He offered. 

 

“That will not be necessary.” She appreciated his offer, but she would be more of a hindrance than a help to him. 

 

He nodded briefly. “Very well. I depart for King’s Landing in two days. You may use the time whilst I’m away to train.” 

 

Her eyes widened and her head snapped towards him. “King’s Landing?” She clarified and he nodded his head.

 

“I’ve changed my mind. I will join you.”

 

-x-

 

Brienne was too excited to sleep. She paced back and forwards across the small floor space of her cabin as the boat rocked gently beneath her. 

 

They would be docking in King’s Landing within the hour, she thought with a grin. 

 

Honestly, she had no idea why she was so excited. He probably didn’t even remember her name. It had been years since they spoken last, after all. 

 

Idly, she thought about how much her appearance had changed over the years and considered that he would no recognise her. She had grown much taller, which nobody had thought possible. Maybe she would be taller than him? According to her maester she would grow taller still. That was not something she looked forwards to.

 

She now wore her hair in a cropped style, it barely grazed the back of her neck, and her usual choice of clothing was nothing but plain and practical. As far as her outwards appearance, she considered herself to be worlds apart from who he’d met all those years ago. 

 

On the inside, however, she would always be that timid little girl. The girl who’d fallen head over heels in love with the only boy who’d shown her an ounce of kindness. 

 

She padded back across the room to her small leather bag then took a deep breath before reaching in and pulling out a very old, very worn piece of parchment. 

 

_ My dearest Brienne,  _

 

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health.  _

 

_ I have visited the sea every day since my return to Casterly Rock, but each time I find myself disappointed. The water here is grey and cold, unlike the glorious waters of Tarth. The week I spent with you, My Lady, was the greatest week of my life. You have to swear to me that you will not stop training with the sword. Twice a day! You will be the greatest swordswoman in Westeros by the time I see you next.  _

 

_ Speaking of which. If you can find it in your heart, I urge you, beg you, to wait for me. Offer your hand to no other man, for he will not be worthy. I do not know when our paths will cross again, but when they do, I intend to stay true to my word. On my honour.  _

 

_ I will be patiently awaiting your reply.  _

 

_ All my love, Jaime.  _

 

Her eyes skimmed the words needlessly, as she had committed it to memory long before now. Then, she delicately clutched the parchment to her breast like she had done almost four years ago. This was all so familiar to her. 

 

They’d written to one another for months after his first letter. His letters were often short, his handwriting was poor and he spelled words like nobody had ever taught him how, but she treasured each and every message he sent. She imagined that her letters were not much better. Even on paper, she somehow felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth and her shyness dictate her words. Yet for some reason, no matter how boring or curt she thought her letters to be, he would reply every time. 

 

On her twelvth name day, around four months after his visit, he sent her a small golden broach in the shape of a lion.  _ A lion, from your lion. _ The accompanying message read. She’d practically wept with joy. 

 

She always had been too afraid to wear the broach as she never did cope well with delicate things. Her big clumsy hands broke delicate china. Her feet managed to quickly wear in the soles every pair of boots she’d ever owned. The dressmakers began to refuse to add lace to her garments on account of the near constant repairs that needed to be made. She knew that if she tried to handle the broach that she would do something stupid like scuff the gold or snap the pin, so it sat untouched in the small drawer beside her bed. 

 

She looked at it every night.

 

A few weeks after her name day was when reality started to settle in. 

 

Jaime informed her that he would be squiring for Barristan Selmy and so he would be leaving Casterly Rock. It would be hard for her to reach him, but he would try to write to her when he could.

 

He promised to wait for her, but even at twelve years old she knew that it was the start of the end of their relationship. Before too long, he would be knighted, then appointed to the King's Guard. Members of the King's Guard were not permitted to marry.

 

She’d cried every night for weeks after he’d told her.

 

But not as hard as she’d cried when was appointed to the Kingsguard at the age of 18. Her father had considered sending for a maester on account of the fact that she was inconsolable, but would never tell anyone why.

 

She couldn’t bare the embarrassment of anyone knowing she was foolish enough to believe that she would one day marry the most handsome man in all of Westeros. So she kept it hidden. She burnt all but his first letter and buried the lion broach beneath a cluster of rocks on the beach. But her heart still yearned for him every day.

 

And then, a year later, he killed his King.

 

-x-

 

King’s Landing was everything that Brienne expected it to be. She hated it.

 

The streets were loud and overcrowded from the moment they stepped off the boat, so much so that it made her head spin. The streets smelled like sewage and she was convinced that every person they passed wanted to hurt her.

 

There was also the staring.

 

On Tarth, due to her father, she was a recognisable figure. The people of Tarth, whilst still unkind, had grown accustomed to her mulish looks and obscene height. People looked at her discreetly, as though she didn’t see them and, more often than not, they kept the worst of their remarks for behind closed doors, out of respect for her family name. But the people of King’s Landing were not as forgiving.

 

Men, women and children alike openly gawped at her as she walked beside her father. Some snickered at the giantess parading through their streets, others yelled insults more openly. She’d tightened her jaw and pretended not to hear them, for the sake of her father’s dignity, but in reality all she wanted to do was shrink up into a small ball.

 

She scanned the streets for a glimpse of golden blonde hair, as though if Jaime were in Kings Landing he would just happen to be walking within metres of her. A rat scurried within inches of her feet and she cringed inwardly.

 

How many rats are there in this wretched city anyways?

 

Once they’d reached the horse and cart that would take them the rest of the distance to the Red Keep, she realised that she hadn’t said a word to her father since they’d docked. She glanced over and smiled sheepishly at him and he nodded his head back, acknowledging her. They never had been a family of great conversationalists.

 

It dawned on her during the journey that her trip here could end up being a complete waste of time. She had no real interest in her father’s diplomatic duties, all she was her for was the slightest chance that she might see Jaime. But although he had been pardoned by Robert Baratheon and allowed to keep his knighthood, he had not yet been reinstated into the King's Guard, so he could be anywhere in the world right now. Plus, even if he was here, he would probably have no interest in seeing her.

 

Should I even want to see him anyways? She asked herself, given his heinous crimes. But she decided to do her best to ignore that moral dilemma, since her heart was practically screaming the answer anyways.

 

She’d been taught for the past two years that the Jaime’s crime was the worst thing a person could do. She should hate him. Be disgusted by him.

 

She just can’t be.

 

That’s not the Jaime she remembers. The fifteen year old boy who’d encouraged her to train with the swords and played with her on the beach like they were young children. Who’d promised to marry her. That was the Jaime she remembered. And he wouldn’t do something so vile, surely not? She refused to believe it.

 

Maybe it was her foolish nature, or maybe it was because she didn’t want to believe that the boy she had been in love with for four years was a monster, but she vowed that she would given him a chance to explain himself before she judged him. If she ever saw him again, that was.

 

-x-

 

“I hope you and your kin will be very comfortable in the Red Keep, Lord Selwyn.” King Robert said to her father from where he sat on the iron throne. He’d welcomed them most graciously, invited them to the evening banquet and was now in the process of dismissing them to the guests’ quarters.

 

Brienne felt her entire body jittering.

 

She’d never been in the presence of royalty before, but that wasn’t what bothered her. No, what was making her practically shake with fear was Cersei Lannister’s unshakeable gaze.

She had recognised Cersei straight away. Well, not technically… At first glance she had thought she was Jaime. But that was perhaps what a glimpse of golden hair and wishful thinking did to a person. Once she’d had a closer look however, she recognised Cersei as Jaime’s twin without a doubt.

 

Given their similar outwards appearance, it was astonishing how different their eyes were. Where Jaime’s eyes, as she remembered, were warm, playful and inviting, Cersei’s were cold, unfeeling and almost judgemental in their gaze. Brienne wondered briefly if Cersei knew who she was.

 

“Lady Brienne, the handmaid's are waiting.” King Robert told her, snapping from her thoughts. She glanced nervously at her father, who was glaring her, and concluded that this may not have been the first time the King addressed her directly. She was too busy daydreaming to pay attention.

 

“My apologies, your grace.” She stammered, feeling her cheeks burning in embarrassment. She bowed her head quickly and turned to follow the handmaids, until she heard Cersei speak for the first time.

 

“Sorry, did you just bow?” She said accusingly. Brienne turned back to face her but felt al the air leave her lungs. Cersei quirked her eyebrow and Brienne couldn’t decide whether she thought she would burst into flames or tears.

 

“I um… Yes. I erm-”

 

“The bow is customary for both genders on Tarth, your grace.” Her father lied, saving Brienne from floundering any longer.

 

Cersei smirked briefly and looked at Brienne once more. “And here’s me thinking it was because you’re too tall and awkward to be a real Lady.” She said with a smile.

 

Brienne blinked rapidly and stared at Cersei in disbelief. Had the Queen of Westeros really insulted to her directly to her face? She looked to the floor and shuffled her feet uncomfortably, then glanced to her father to see if he would defend her again.

 

Not this time.

 

She wasn’t surprised her father wouldn’t stand up to royalty, but it didn’t take away the burn of pain in her heart. She felt her lip wobble briefly. She was going to cry.

 

“May I be excused?” She asked softly, her voice breaking.

 

King Robert nodded his head once, allowing her to leave, so she turned and made her way quickly towards the exit. She brushed swiftly past the handmaids waiting to take her to her chambers and the moment she was through the door, she broke into a run.

 

Fuck this place. She’d been a fool to come here.

 

Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, but she didn’t slow down. Maybe if she hurried she could find the vessel that had brought her here and beg them to take her back to Tarth. She was barrelling through the courtyard of the Red Keep so quickly that she didn’t realise she was about to bump into someone until she collided with their chest and felt a firm pair of hands on her biceps.

 

“Woah, woah, woah.” She heard the voice say with a chuckle.

 

“Unhand me at once.” She yelled, thrashing in the grip of her assailant. “I am Lady-”

 

“My gods.” The voice cut her off. “Will we always meet like this?”

 

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked up. His voice was deeper. He was taller. Broader. Stronger. He wore armour and carried a real sword now. But his eyes, and that dazzling smirk, hadn’t changed a bit.

 

Jaime.

 

Was this real? Was this really happening?

 

She blinked away her tears from her encounter with Cersei, but fresh ones threatened to fill her eyes as it dawned on her that it truly was him. She felt like a fool. She’d been anticipating this moment so much, yet she hadn’t considered what she would say if she saw him.

 

Say something. Her mind screamed.

 

“You’ve gotten taller.” He smirked, glancing her up and down. He was still taller than her, as she expected he was fully grown, but only by around half an inch.

 

Her eyes narrowed at him and her face burned with embarrassment. Cersei had taunted her and now he wished to do the same. “Don’t mock me.” She practically hissed.

 

“I wasn’t.” Jaime said quickly, taking his hands off her shoulders and dropping them to his side. He stared at her for a moment and smirked. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He said softly.

She smiled back at him. “Me neither. That you’re here, I mean. I can’t believe you’re here.” She stammered awkwardly, cursing herself for her gawkish behaviour.

 

He grinned and sighed softly. “You haven’t changed a bit, Blue.” As if she wasn’t blushing enough already.

 

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but the words would not come.

 

“My Lady, I hope you will excuse me, but I’m very late to see my father.” He said apologetically and she nodded her head. Had she blown this with her awkwardness already?

 

“Yes, of course, Ser Jaime.” She said sheepishly and he looked at her with a mixture of sadness and confusion, which quickly dissipated.

 

“Sorry.” He said with a smile. “It’s just, people don’t usually call me that anymore.”

“What do they call you?”

 

“Kingslayer.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She felt awful for asking. She wanted nothing more than for them to run down to the beach as they had done during his week on Tarth. She wished they were children again, when everything was so much simpler.

 

He shook his head and his sombre look was replaced with his devilish grin once more. “I’ll see you at the banquet this evening, yes?”

“Um, Yes. I think. Yes, I think I will definitely be there.” She stammered awkwardly 

 

Jaime shook his head and chuckled affectionately as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for all the lovely comments that inspired me to keep this work going. I have not planned exactly how long this fic will be as of yet, but it has the potential to be quite long depending on feedback, so please let me know what you think!!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback/ constructive criticism is appreciated! Please let me know if you’d like to see more of this story.


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